


Saisonner

by Santsi



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Romance, Seasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santsi/pseuds/Santsi
Summary: He's seasoned in patience.





	

His patience was unconditional.

That was something he had taken from hunts with his father back home. When he was a child he would wait by his mother's side as she bathed in the river, anxious to grow up and join his brother's on the hunt. As he tried to sneak away she would chide him, "Paciência é amargo, mas seu fruto é doce, meu filho."

When he turned ten, still eager and naïve but ready for manhood, he scared the game away and his father would tell him "As coisas boas vêm para quem esperar meu filho, tenha paciência."

Providing meat for his family had been a rite of passage into manhood and taught him much more than how to catch a meal; Patience and a subtle persistence go hand in hand.

He was patient though the summer heat. When he found her on the asvault, sandy legs sprawled out, black grit on her knees, she'd never looked so beautiful- Jackie as Jackie. Not Jackie as queen bee. Not Jackie as cheerleader. Not Jackie as confidant, careful, and desperate.

He assumed the summer sun must have melted away her façade, because her eyes shined with honesty.

"I don't get it." She clenched her fists at her sides and he was reminded of a young dark haired girl with all dolls and no family, "He won't marry me. He doesn't love me. He never stays. What's wrong with me?"

His head told him to run. His heart told him to stay.

"Só os tolos andam onde os anjos temem pisar."

Only a fool listens to his heart, so he accepted his role with a quiet diligence.

Back home there was no winter, only cold nights. So, he tries his hand at empathy and his patience runs steady through the night.

She stayed bundled up on the couch, stuck in between the blistering summer heat and numbing cold of winter, cashmere scarf hung around her neck like a noose. Her gaze is mostly fixed on an empty lawn chair. Sometimes she's not even looking anywhere.

But his eyes have stayed fixed on her since the beginning, and he knows no matter where she's looking he'll always be looking at her. He closes the space between them, and not for the first time that year she sobs into his embrace.

He patiently waits for the thaw.

The night he became a man he was guided by a shaman who showed him wonderful and terrifying things. He was made aware of his purpose and that purpose was life.

After the stark, dead of winter, beauty pushes through the dirt. Life is vibrant and bursting. She looked lovely with marigolds in her hair and by her feet. Her toes were yellow painted and when she smiled at him he felt the sunshine for the first time since he left home.

Because as his father would tell him, "As coisas boas vêm para quem esperar." And as his mother would tell him, "Paciência é amargo, mas seu fruto é doce, meu filho." What they never told him was "Hope springs eternal."

In the afternoon grass, blooming violets and dandelions, she threaded her fingers through his and prayed that spring would never end.

Translations (Please don't get mad if it's not accurate. It was just a quick idea. Yay for new ideas? Hehe?)

"Paciência é amargo, mas seu fruto é doce, meu filho." (Patience is bitter, its fruit is sweet, my son.)

"As coisas boas vêm para quem esperar meu filho, tenha paciência." (Good things come to those who wait, my son. Have patience.)

"Só os tolos andam onde os anjos temem pisar." (Only fools walk where angels fear to tread.)


End file.
